


sing me like a choir.

by redhoods



Series: kinktober 2019. [10]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Biting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, trans fjord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-12 23:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21234164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: He’s got no idea what time it is, how long they’ve actually been asleep, but he still reaches back, gets a handful of Caleb’s hip, squeezes, “Cay,” he breathes out quietly, shifting restlessly against the sheets of their bed. He shoves his arm under his head, curls his fingers into his own hair for something to hold onto.And Caleb snuffles against his back, rocks his hips a little, but that’s it.





	sing me like a choir.

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober, amirite? this is just... smut.
> 
> follow up to [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215441) which was not smut. ~*~*~ balance ~*~*~*~
> 
> i wrote this over the course of several hours tonight so if there's glaring errors, well... whatever.
> 
> fjord is trans and i use feminine coded language and the sex isn't safe!!!!! use condoms.
> 
> title is from BITE by troye sivan.

It’s dark when he wakes up and Fjord takes a moment to reorient himself around the fact that it’s always going to be dark when he wakes up now. And around the fact that he’s now home and that means that Caleb’s wrapped all around him, arms and legs, pressed all the way against his back.

This is certainly a far cry from when they’d fallen asleep and he’s not even surprised.

Nor is he surprised by the hard press of Caleb’s dick against his lower back, or the bolt of heat it sends through him that curls pleasantly in his lower belly.

He’s got no idea what time it is, how long they’ve actually been asleep, but he still reaches back, gets a handful of Caleb’s hip, squeezes, “Cay,” he breathes out quietly, shifting restlessly against the sheets of their bed. He shoves his arm under his head, curls his fingers into his own hair for something to hold onto.

And Caleb snuffles against his back, rocks his hips a little, but that’s it.

It’s cute, it’s very cute, but not at all what he wants at the moment. He hesitates though, because he knows how Caleb sleeps when they’re not together and it’s not great and Caleb really does deserve all the sleep he can get, but Fjord wants. It burns through his veins and he’d be dizzy with how fast he’s turned on if he weren’t expecting it.

If it hadn’t been two months, is all.

He turns his face into his bicep, whines quietly against his own skin as he releases Caleb’s hip, pulls his hand back to himself. And he doesn’t feel guilty, doesn’t feel embarrassed about wanting like he does, he just really wishes Caleb were awake.

To see it, to witness it.

They have time though, so much time for Fjord to show him how desired he is.

He pushes his thighs together, breathes out hard against his skin, resists the urge to bite down to keep his mouth busy as he slides his hand under the sheet that Caleb must’ve pulled over them at some point. Drags the blunted ends of his claws over his own skin, over his belly, through the curls at the apex of his thighs and nearly jerks himself off the bed when his fingers drag over his already swollen clit.

The bed shifts under him and he stills as Caleb nuzzles at his back, ruts his hips forward again, but still, his breathing evens out once more. Honestly, he’s a little amazed, a little struck that Caleb’s still asleep, with the amount of trust that’s been placed in his hands.

It’s something to think about later when said hands aren’t busy.

Relaxing his thighs, he presses forward, rubs his fingers over his folds where he’s already getting wet, tries to keep his touch gentle as he touches himself, muffling his moan into his arm and pillow.

He slides a finger into himself, slow and steady, exhales out a quiet whine, and he never used to be noisy, couldn’t be noisy on a boat full of other sailors, but now? Now that he knows that Caleb likes it when he’s loud, when he lets it be known that Caleb’s doing good, doing right? He’s not sure if he can stop himself from making noise.

It’s not enough, of course it’s not, because it’s not really what he wants but he curves his finger, draws it out, presses back in. He can only stand that for so long before he presses back in with two, groans against his arm as he hooks at his fingers.

The angle is bad though and he can’t get his fingers deep enough, but he keeps fucking himself shallowly with them, curving them, trying not to make too much noise.

“Fjord?” Caleb says, very suddenly, voice hoarse with sleep, “Fjord, are you alright?” His voice is warm against Fjord’s back and he doesn’t think Caleb’s aware of it, but he ruts his hips forward again, cock against Fjord’s lower back.

Sucking in a quiet breath, he stills, fingers still pressed into himself, “Yeah, I am,” he says, but his voice is too high pitched, cracks a little and Caleb stills against his back.

“Are you sure?” Caleb asks, his hand landing on Fjord’s arm, thumb stroking in gentle sweeps. The concern is genuine and Fjord’s heart aches with how much he loves this man, even more so when Caleb presses a kiss to his back, “Do you need something?”

Fjord hiccups out a wild sound, half keen, half desperate scoff, “You,” he answers.

Caleb makes a curious sound behind him, hand stroking down his arm, then stilling, “Oh,” he replies, mouth still against Fjord’s back, then, “Fjord,” lower as his hand continues following Fjord’s arm lower and Fjord burns with it. And Caleb makes another curious sound, fingers dragging down Fjord’s arm, over his wrist and then lower, until his fingers are against where Fjord’s are pressed into himself.

Another whine spills out of him and Fjord rocks his hips, breathes out a desperate, “Cay.”

“Oh, schatz,” Caleb says against his back, much more awake as he presses one long finger in alongside Fjord’s two, “Already so wet,” and he’s missed this, the lower timbre of Caleb’s voice when he’s like this, “Did you wake up this wet or have you been fucking yourself waiting on me to wake up? Hm?”

And he doesn’t move his finger, doesn’t move his hand either so Fjord can move his own fingers. He groans, shifts to presses back against Caleb’s cock, “You were sleeping so well,” he answers.

That gets a another kiss to his back.

“So considerate,” and Caleb hooks his thumb and pinky around Fjord’s hand, pulls it away, pushes right back when Fjord whines quietly, “I have you, going to take good care of you.”

Fjord nods, rocking his hips against their fingers, “Please.”

Caleb holds his hand still again, scrapes teeth over the scar tissue on his back, then says, “Would you like my mouth on you? Get you nice and wet, take the edge off, and then you can have my cock if you want it?” 

And gods, Fjord still gets blindsided by the mouth on Caleb at times, but especially now, his hips jerking helplessly against his fingers, trying to get some friction, some relief, “Caleb,” he growls at then.

“Okay,” Caleb says, voice soft around a laugh and he withdraws his hand, pats Fjord’s hip as he pulls away, the heat of him leaving Fjord’s back as the bed shifts. “Come on, schatz, on your back, let me see you.”

Fjord tips onto his back and it’s so much better, so much easier, to plant his feet, rock his hips up against his hands, eyes half lidded as he watches Caleb watch him. And Caleb’s face is already red with arousal, color that’s down his neck, fading when it reaches the hair on his chest. His cock is hard, dipping under its own weight, precum beading at the tip and Fjord’s mouth waters.

He pushes back into himself with three fingers with a loud moan.

Caleb startles out of staring again, pushing the blankets down towards the end of the bed as he shuffles himself over and tips until he’s on his belly between Fjord’s spread thighs, eyes on where Fjord’s still fucking himself with his fingers

Finally, finally, he reaches out, palms against Fjord’s thighs, pressing them open that much wider, before he leans in and licks around Fjord’s fingers.

“Fu-uck,” Fjord’s thighs are already quaking and he’s already so close to the edge that he’s not expecting Caleb’s hand to wrap around his wrist, to stop his motions, and then fully pull his hand away. He whines at the ceiling, thighs clamping down around Caleb, who only keeps licking at his folds, just gentle flicks.

Before he pulls his mouth away as well, wraps his lips around the fingers that Fjord had been fucking himself with, swallows them down, licks them clean.

Fjord’s entire body is trembling by the time Caleb releases his fingers with an obscene pop. “Gut, kätzchen?” And, oh, he’s certainly missed that as well, pitch rising as he moans as Caleb presses a biting kiss to his thigh before dragging the flat of his tongue over Fjord again.

And his whole body rocks with it, trembling and sensitive, hair trigger already as Caleb grips his thighs and presses in, eats him out like he’s been starving for it for the two months they’ve been apart.

It takes no time after that, for Fjord’s voice to break, his body arching off the bed towards Caleb’s mouth as his orgasm slams into him full force, digging his fingers into the bed beneath him. Caleb doesn’t gentle him through it though, presses into him with two fingers while he’s arched, crooks them up, rubs them along his inner walls until Fjord is sobbing through a second orgasm right on the heels of the first.

He hits the bed, panting and face wet, eyelashes clumped together, claws thankfully not long enough to puncture the blankets.

Caleb’s gentle now, licking him clean with careful strokes, fingers moving shallow. The sounds are loud, obscene and wet and Fjord throws his arm over his eyes, can’t find energy in him to do more than that for the moment as his body quakes down from the edge.

“Fjord,” Caleb says quiet and his mouth is wet when he presses another kiss to Fjord’s thigh, then to his hip, to his belly, leaving a wet trail as he works his way up, “Are you okay?”

Fjord snorts, lifts his arm to peer at Caleb, puts it right back when he sees how wet Caleb’s mouth and chin are with a quiet whine, “Better than okay,” he answers, reaching out until he finds bareskin, rubbing his hand over Caleb’s chest, thumbs over one of his nipples just to hear Caleb’s breath hitch, then drags his hand down.

And Caleb settles between his thighs, mouth pressing to skin once more, over the wild thrum of his heart, to his collar, then the base of his throat where he bites.

It makes Fjord’s brain scramble again as he gets a hand on Caleb’s hip, holds on too tight as he moans, arching his neck, “Come on, Cay,” he says, low, encouraging, lifting his arm off his face so he can cup the back of Caleb’s head, tangle fingers in his hair.

By the time Caleb pulls away from the spot, Fjord can tell there’s going to be a spectacular bruise there just by how the spot thrums with his pulse, “Gut?”

“Keep going,” he urges quietly, tugging at Caleb’s hair gently.

This is one of Caleb’s things, has been for a while, since he let Fjord sinks his teeth into him, leave his mark, a ringed scar that sits at the base of his own throat. Caleb treats it like a worry stone, rubs at it, digs his fingers into it, had come in his pants once when Fjord had simply pressed his teeth against it. And damn if Caleb doesn’t put his best effort into doing the same in return to Fjord.

Even though they both know his blunt human teeth aren’t going to be able to achieve that.

He’s been scheming up something though, Fjord knows, had been even in the month before they’d gone their separate ways, but he’s content to wait Caleb out on this, until Caleb is certain about it.

As if there’s a chance that Fjord wouldn’t let him leave his mark in return if he wanted to, as if Fjord doesn’t let him try all he wants just like this.

Caleb groans quietly, shuffles a little until his cock is lined up against Fjord, ruts against his still slick folds as he finds another spot and bites down again. This time a little gentler, the tension easing out of him even as he does so.

Fjord flexes his grip on Caleb’s hip then relaxes his hand, pets down his flank then around to his back, drags the gentle points of his claws in circles before he hitches a leg up around Caleb’s waist, grinds up against him until Caleb groans loud against his throat, “Caleb.”

It works though, Caleb pushes his hand between them, rubs his fingers over Fjord’s swollen, sensitive clit, then lower through his folds, curls them into him, just once, more of a tease than any sort of relief, before he wraps fingers around his cock. He pushes in so slowly that Fjord thinks he might lose his damn mind, eyes clenching shut, toes curling as he tries to tug Caleb in faster, urge him on.

“Slow down, kätzchen,” Caleb murmurs leaning away from his throat, hands moving to grip both of Fjord’s hips, doing his best to hold him down against the bed as he continues to press in slow, until his hips are flush with Fjord’s pelvis and they’re both quietly panting. One of Caleb’s hands slides from his hip up his thigh, squeezing around it tight, “You feel so good,” Caleb breathes out, chin to his chest, eyes sliding from where their joined up to meet his.

Fjord hums, toes still curling and uncurling as he sucks in a large gulp of air, snipes impatiently, “If you don’t hurry up and move, Caleb Widogast.”

Caleb actually laughs at him, soft and fond, hoarse though, groans when Fjord clenches down around him in revenge, “What will you do, kätzchen? Flip us over and have your way with me?” He grinds his hips forward, “How awful a punishment that would be.”

Then Caleb pulls back, snaps his hips forward with a surprising amount of force considering his frame, somehow keeps talking. “Maybe I should flip you over instead,” he says, leaning down to press their lips together in what he tries to make a brief kiss before Fjord bites at his lower lip, draws him back in for a longer kiss.

Feels satisfied and smug when Caleb pulls back, face a renewed red, lower lip swollen, “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Cheeky,” Caleb says, pinches his thigh gently, then starts rocking his hips as he braces his hands on either side of Fjord’s head. His hair’s so long now that it brushes Fjord’s cheek, tickles over his skin, and Caleb huffs out a quiet sound, “Have to start pulling it up.”

Fjord groans softly as he hooks his other leg around Caleb’s slim hips, “Could start braiding it.”

Caleb blinks at him, tips his head down so their foreheads touch, eyes closing as he groans, “You distracted me,” he accuses, though the effect is lost with his blissed out expression.

“Terribly sorry, love,” Fjord counters, though his breath hitches on the endearment when Caleb snaps his hips suddenly, “What sort of good time were you threatening me with?” He runs his hands up Caleb’s arms, down his sides, up his back, then draws his claws down Caleb’s back.

“Ah,” is the only answer he gets for several thrusts as Caleb finds his rhythm and they both get lost in the pleasure, sharing air as they groan.

Then Caleb shifts, presses their mouths together for a brief kiss, then leans up, leverages himself with a hand on Fjord’s thigh, “I was considering that maybe I should turn you over, let you fuck yourself on me, since you were so eager for it.”

And Fjord whines, hands curling into the blankets again because Caleb’s out of decent reach.

“Mm, like that idea, kätzchen?” His thrusts don’t even falter as he speaks, teasing and easy, like this is normal conversation to have, like he’s not driving Fjord up the wall simply by talking to him, “I certainly wouldn’t mind the view,” he adds, tongue making an appearance against his lower lip as his eyes, dark navy nearly black in the dim firelight of their room, drag down over Fjord’s body, “but I think I like this view more.”

Fjord turns his head, tries to hide his face into the pillow as he moans, drops his leg from Caleb’s hip to plant his foot on the bed, rock his hips up. “Caleb,” licks his lips, whines again, “_Caleb_.”

Caleb only pets his thigh, digs his fingers in, “I know, I have you,” he says, his own groan so loud it echoes off the walls around them. His hand slides up finally, up Fjord’s thigh until he can circle his thumb around Fjord’s clit in tight circles.

And Fjord shouts, vision whiting out as he locks his thighs around Caleb’s hips, orgasm washing over him in a sudden crash.

When his vision clears again, Caleb is still fully seated in him, hips grinding in gentle circles, hands petting gentle over Fjord’s hips and thighs, lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Caleb,” he croaks out, reaches for him until Caleb curves forward. Fjord draws him closer to kiss him, uncoordinated and sloopy, before he slides his hand down Caleb’s back, presses it to the small of his back, “C’mon, wanna feel you in me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please, Cay.”

Caleb hums, groans out a little wild, desperate sound, and starts thrusting again in earnest, any rhythm he might’ve had long gone as he chases his own peak.

It’s when Fjord’s approaching oversensitive, when he digs his heel into Caleb’s skinny backside, that Caleb finally comes, near silent, curving forward until his forehead is against Fjord’s chest, hips jerking in little movements as he rides it out. Fjord draws his fingers through his hair, down his back in gentle sweeps.

He drops both legs down to the bed when Caleb shifts, starts to push up. But Caleb only leans up for a slow, lazy kiss, presses their foreheads together.

The kiss breaks on a mutual exhales and Caleb levers himself back up, hands sliding down each of Fjord’s flanks to his hips, “Oversensitive?” He asks quietly, as he shifts back on his knees, softening cock sliding out of Fjord.

Humming, Fjord stretches his legs, shifts a little, “Maybe a bit.”

Caleb’s hands slide to his thighs, thumbs rubbing there, “Feel better?”

“Much,” Fjord answers without hesitation, nudging his knee against Caleb’s hip, “You?”

“Ja,” Caleb pauses, obviously with more he wants to say, curves forward to press a kiss to the center of Fjord’s chest, “I missed you.”

Fjord rolls his head to the side to peer at him better, reaching out to card his fingers through Caleb’s hair, “I missed you too,” he echoes quietly, as Caleb smears more kisses against his skin, lazy smudges of his lips rather than actual pecks.

His descent is slow, meandering like he’s trying to cover every bit of Fjord’s skin in kisses, until he’s pressing those lazy kisses against Fjord’s thighs, peers up at him, “Can I?”

“Yeah, Cay,” he agrees with a gusty exhale, tucking an arm under his head to give him some line of sight as Caleb pushes his hair back from his face, leans down and just exhales over Fjord’s cunt. His foot slips on the bed when he jerks a little, and Caleb’s hand braces on that thigh.

Caleb’s gentle about it, knows to be by now, just easy swipes of his tongue against Fjord’s folds, cleaning him up, before he presses in with just one long finger.

This orgasm is a gentle swelling, it sweeps over him and he trembles his way through at, moaning quietly and reaching out to grip Caleb’s shoulder, though he’s not sure if he’s trying to push him away or pull him closer any longer. It doesn’t matter, Caleb eases back, kisses his way back up, then tilts suddenly, splaying himself on the bed next to Fjord.

Blinking away the spots in his vision, waiting for his thighs to stop quaking, Fjord flings his arm out, palm flat against Caleb’s chest, “I love you.”

Caleb’s hand comes to rest over his, “I love you too, schatz.”

After a few moments of breathing, he turns, curls towards Caleb. closes his eyes, “Time is it?”

There’s some shuffling, before Caleb is tipping into the cover of his body, burrowing his way back until his back is against Fjord’s chest. Fjord snuffles out a quiet laugh into his neck, wrapping his arm around Caleb, pressing a teasing, “Giant house cat,” against Caleb’s neck, even as the purring starts in his own chest.

“It’s two twenty-four in the morning,” Caleb informs him, not dignifying that cat comment as he tangles their fingers together against his breast bone.

“Hm, good morning then,” he murmurs as sleep tries to drag him under and all he hears is Caleb’s quiet, rusty laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> come arrest me for horny crimes i guess @vowofenmity


End file.
